


A Past Written in Blood

by deviantdanni



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Childhood, Friendship, Gen, first incounter, young assassin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:30:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviantdanni/pseuds/deviantdanni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ja'far was very young when he was taken from his country. The only thing he remembers with his own eyes is the snow and his language. Forced into a life of blood and death, Ja'far struggled every day to survive, until he came upon a target he didn't have the heart to kill. A teenager who smiled at him, as if an equal, and held out a hand to him. Travel the world? Conquer dungeons?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Target

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on ff.net a couple of years ago, before Sinbad no Bouken was published and Sinbad's and Ja'far's past was known. This was my theory and fantasy about how they met.
> 
> Also, Ja'far will be speaking Polish in this story, but in the Magi universe Poland is not a country. I am only using his speech as Polish to show he is speaking another language. Ja'far is not Polish and is not from Poland. When I speak of his 'people', I do not mean Polish people. I do not want to offend any Polish speakers that may be reading! I am not Polish and I am not very skilled in the language. I apologize if I have written the language incorrectly! I mean no offense! Thank you :)

_I do not remember much of my country -if it can be called as such. It might be more appropriate to say that I recall little of the land where I was born. Only that its winters were long and harsh, snow and ice, with hail storms making up much of its weather. The summers were the only time the people could see any green. The air was just warm enough to allow crops to grow, but only in specially made glass houses. The language, as rough and stern as its people, is one of the only things I have haven't truly lost. Our names held deep meanings to them. Everything was alive in our language, had a soul, a destiny._

_If I had a mother I have long since forgotten her face let alone her name. Not that I have any wish to see who was unlucky enough to have given birth to a child such as me. And I hold no grudge against the women for what has become of my life. As far as orphanage can go, I was not the worst off. Many of the children, ignorant to the evils of the world, would become beggars on the very street they were sired. The fools would either die of starvation, the elements, or better yet, taken from the street to be sold off as slaves. If nothing, my parents had passed on a few genes I am quiet thankful for. Such as my reasoning, for I had the wit enough to know how to hide from the slave hunters and from many prying eyes._

_The country was far from poor, as many of the populace were stable in their finances and there were plenty of rich men and women. But instead of sharing their wealth to stabilize the entire country, they kept their money behind lock and key. No charities, not a penny would leave its owners hands. And so the poor stayed poor, and the rich stayed rich. And as long as the country was still standing, the king would not meddle with his subjects mentalities._

Ja'far cracked his neck, letting none of the satisfaction show on his face. The noise echoed in the small cement room. Letting a deep breath slip past his lips as he closed his eyes, mind still racing.

_My first clear memory is of the green house I used as shelter. There were plenty of dense shrubbery I could conceal myself behind, and it kept out the cold. I would only eat the food there in times of emergency. The mere thought of being found by the farmer was enough of a warning. Lest I would loose my bed along with my very life. It was much safer to steal from venders and quickly disappear in the crowds._

_It was soon near my sixth birthday, when I began to notice the difference. The air darker, the once wealthy now chattering naked on the corner, and the rest of my peers gone. I had become the last orphan on the streets. The rest had...disappeared_.

_No matter how well I hid, word had spread that there was still a boy on the streets._

Raising his hand, Ja'far turned the limb and watched as the muscles clenched into a fist before letting it fall back onto the concrete slab he rested on. Briefly looking up to watch the men walk by through the bars of the door.

_I had taken my clothes from the bodies of the dead, either the ones that were left in the alleys or even going so far as digging up the body from the grave. After many of the country seemed to be passing, the graves became shallow, having to bury three in one hole. The best I could do was rip the fabric and wrap the cloth around me as best I could. There never were any sewing needles or thread lying around, but there were bandages. Either on the dead, wounded, or most second hand shops. I would use them to cover the rest of my body, to keep in warmth but still allowing me to move easily, and if ever I were hurt the bandages were easily moved to wrap the area._

_Most of the country's people had fair skin and hair, myself being no exception. It blends in well with the gray-white skies the country always seemed to have, along with the gray streets and building. My people are people of the cold. Cloaks were a popular wear, seeing as our skin is sensitive to the sun, and the snow reflects it in all angles. If not completely covered I would be burnt within the hour. Funny, how most of my knowledge of my own country was learned long after its destruction._

His eyes clenched tight as a memory surfaced. _The last day I was in that country._ A shadow cast its way into the chamber, crawling from the barred window.

"You have been summoned." A deep commanding voice came from the shadow, before it suddenly vanished; the only indication of it not being his imagination was the handle-less door slowly swinging open. The door is only opened for one thing. Ja'far stood and calmly walked out of his prison and into the fire lit hallways. The guards are scarce on this level of the base, only one every five chambers. But a few stories higher is like another world all together. Hundreds of guards, expert swords men, and ruthless killers as far as the eye can see. They protect the higher-ups, men so important Ja'far has never heard a whisper of their names, let alone meet them.

His strides were fast, but controlled enough to look as if he were gliding. His eyes set forward to the only other room he is permitted to enter. Briskly walking down a few hallways before climbing the steep stone stairs. He quietly thanked the gods for the information room being so far from his chambers. Sitting in the room all day had made his limbs ache and muscles tight. The walk was just enough time to stretch his muscles, and settle his wandering thoughts. If he had any fear left in him, they would have been calmed on the walk, Ja'far reasoned.

And not long later did he arrive at the information room. Stepping up a foot from the door, the small boy gave one rasp of his knuckles on the wood. His arms pulling back to his sides quickly, one eye watching the guards that stood at attention. One can never be too careful, after all.

The door swung open, the rooms only occupants stationed on the far end of the room.

"Enter." The masked form turned to the bandaged boy in the door way. Ja'far hesitated for but a brief second before silently bowing three feet from the masked man. Ja'far had never seen these men before, the information was always given by a thin man in the robes of a royal servant. But these…figures…had council clergy uniforms and checkered masks, nothing to what the boy was expecting. And not only there appearances, but sheer number! It had always been just one man, unlike the three that stood above him presently.

"Rise." The man in the middle spoke evenly. Ja'far rose to his feet, his head straight forward, his gaze only level with the figures middle. It was an act of disrespect to raise his head to his superiors. Orders are heard, not seen. One such as you has no right to look to a superiors' eyes unless instructed to do so. Ja'far recalls the reason he was given after being slapped in the face rather roughly when he had first met his…masters.

The men turned to each other before giving a small nod, the middle man pulling a piece of parchment from his sleeves. Letting it roll out in midair in front of Ja'far. The boy kept his head straight, even at the flicker of magic.

"There is a boy traveling to the west of here. One we have reason to believe will become a problematic man in the future. Find him and end his life." The paper is lowered to Ja'far's face, before lifelessly falling to the floor. Ja'far emotionlessly plucked the paper before it could reach the ground. Only letting his eyes move to see the face of his next kill sketched on the paper. Male, young, dark hair, hoop earrings, low-hanging ponytail. Ja'far folded the paper as small as possible before swallowing it, eyes as dead as his movements suggested. The three men smiled beneath their masks.

Ja'far could see the shadows crawl up from the ground, covering the three men, and slowly they started to disappear. The pale boy bowed low until the three figures had completely left the room. The door swung open once again, no one left in the room but Ja'far. The boy quietly left the room, not even a glance back or at the guards that littered the hallway. His eyes set forward on the west corridor door.

He didn't need to pack anything but his weapons and they were already on his person, tightly wrapped on each of his arms.

Coming up on the door, Ja'far grasped the hood of his cloak, pulling it to cover his face from the sun. The tightened the fastenings in the front before opening the door. The sun was covered by one of the high towers, but soon he would be out in the streets. Not only did he need to lay low for mission purposes, but his skin was just not made for direct sunlight. And his master's main base was located almost exactly in the middle of one of the world's largest deserts.

Ja'far let his eyes take in his surroundings before walking out into the street. Grasping tight to his bandages and pulling them tightly in place, only letting his eyes, nose and forehead left unwrapped. He needed his eyes to see, nose to smell, and wrapping them around his forehead would do little but soak in his sweat.

It was early morning, the sun only a fourth of the way into the sky, Ja'far checked. Silently and swiftly running through the throngs of people. His only form of direction- west.

His days consisted of running from town to town, searching every nook and crevice for any sing of his target. His resting was done at the few hours before the sun rose, twice in the corner of a roof top, once digging a hole just big enough to conceal his body from view a few miles between the last town he had come from and the next. Thankfully there was a small oasis near, and Ja'far drank greedily, not knowing when he would be so lucky again.

His snake like eyes trained on the line of buildings in the distance. _I am taking too long. The target must be somewhere close. They would have said where he was last spotted if it were far. So he has to be at least within a week's travel. They don't like to be kept waiting._ Ja'far looked to the rising sun, eyes narrowing. _He is here._

The boy tightened his cloak and fastened his wires tighter around his arms before starting a slow run to the town. Entering behind the buildings, silent as a ghost. His eyes piercing, left and right, searching for the face he was shown a few days ago. Casually wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

"Hey kid watch where you're going!" A gruff voice called out, softened from distance.

"Sorry, old man!" A deep, yet boyish laugh responded.

Ja'far turned and ran down the alley he was crouched in, turning to see a young man with violet hair picking up a box of fallen oranges. A giddy smile on his face as he handed the last one to the vender. Ja'far stared at the boy's back, which held a long ponytail. And when the boy turned, there was no doubt. _This is him._ Ja'far could see the golden hooped earrings, dark hair kept in a low hanging ponytail, seeming to be around the age of fourteen or fifteen.

The silver haired boy crept low, keeping a good enough distance between him and his target. He needed the boy away from the people, hopefully alone and in a space where his screams wouldn't be heard. But if need be, Ja'far could always slit the boy's throat from behind, not giving him a chance to call for help. And in that aspect, giving him less time to suffer.

The sun had climbed to its highest point by the time the violet haired boy had moved to an adequate spot. He seemed to be making a short cut through two buildings, the sun at his front. Ja'far jumped at the opportunity, ready to leave the desert as soon as possible and hide away in his stone chambers. He dashed from his spot behind a few apple barrels, feet silent as the winds.

The boy never saw it coming, and Ja'far sailed through the air, landing on the boy's back. His weight caused the two to tumble to the ground, a surprised grunt coming from the young man beneath him. The violet haired boy turn, just in time to see the silver haired boy pulling two triangular shaped knives from his sleeves. His eyes widened, hands flying up to grasp the wrists of the boy…boy? _This is just a kid! What the? Is he hungry?_

Ja'far's eyes slit at having his arms successfully held back. The boy beneath him…Why isn't he screaming for help? His bandages seemed to have unwind in his movements. This will have to go a little faster than he had planned. Ja'far slammed him knees into the boy's middle, glad to feel the tight grip off of his wrists. Pulling his red strings from his arms to allow his knives to make a larger slash.

Sinbad gasped as the small limb shoved its way into his stomach. Red wire fell onto his lap, blinding his eyes with the glare from the two large knives that were now quickly making there way to his throat.

"Woah there!" Sinbad laughed, a light coming to life from his chest. A golden necklace swiftly blocking all attempted slashes at his neck. The smaller boy above him snarled, jumping from his chest to stand a few feet away, feet set in a deadly stance. "Hey kid calm down. You want something to eat?" Sinbad leaned forward, hands on his knees, a goofy smile plastered to his face.

Ja'far stayed silent, choosing not to answer. Taking a few powerful steps forward before twisting in midair, knives held tight. Sinbad's eyes dumbly widened as the small boy continued attacking. Leaping toward him with his silver knives. He fought off all the attacks, blocking move after move, but never showing any interest in fighting back.

The ragged boy growled, using the red wires as strings to swing his knives through the air. Dodging quickly, almost losing a limb in the process. This kid is really trying to kill me! Sinbad tried to snatch one of the knives out of the air, but the boy would just maneuver them away from his grasp.

And with a small run the boy was on the side wall, leaping off and successfully kicking Sinbad right off his own feet. Spitting up sand, he tried to stand, but found the small boy once again with his knives rushing toward his vital areas.

But Sinbad was no longer just an ordinary boy. His glowing necklace enhanced his skill and gave him just enough strength to subdue the silver haired boy. His eyes…they are so…empty…like a snakes'.

Sinbad grasped both of the boy's arms, a little annoyed at how he had to struggle.

"Listen, kid, I'm a lot stronger than you, so you should just-" Sinbad started to say, before one of the boy's arms had broken free. A large knife now imbedded into his chest. _That's it!_ Sinbad flipped the boy off of him, digging the small arms into the dirt with only one of his. Quickly pulling the dagger from his chest and throwing it far from reach. His necklace shining, taking deep breaths, the hole in his chest healed. Ja'far sent a kick to the violet haired boy's side, hoping to throw him off, but the kick did little.

Sinbad frowned down at the boy, his free hand grabbing at the weapons and starting to pull them off and out of his hands. His would-be killer thrashing under his arms. His eyes frantic as the taller boy took off his weapons.

"Who sent a kid like you to kill me? You know I have just conquered my second dungeon, right?" Sinbad tossed the daggers and red wire away, looking down at the boy's arms. _Were those wires…cutting into him?_ He slowly unwound the bandages from the boy's arms. His eyes narrowing as he saw that the arms were riddled with scars, winding up his arm, even some stitching that seemed new.

"Puścić!" The boy yelled darkly, glaring at Sinbad. His eyes -probably trying to look fearsome…just seemed so…afraid.

"Can you understand me?" Sin paused from taking off the rest of the bandages on his arms, instead moving to remove the ones from his face.

Seeing the hands slowly reaching for his face, Ja'far could only think of one thing to do. His instincts taking over as he sunk his teeth into the invading hand.

"AH!" Sinbad pulled his hand away, grimacing at the blood seeping from the deep bite in his hand. Looking down into the pale boy's eyes. _Like a trapped rabbit._ Even with his wounded hand, Sinbad reached for the wrappings around the boy's head once again. Succeeding in pulling them free, his features softening at the young face. _Almost killed by a toddler…man I must be getting old._

Ja'far's mind raced, trying to think of another way to kill his target. His weapons are too far from reach, his arms are restrained, the target is a dungeon conqueror, he is clearly out matched. But his masters would not accept anything less than one hundred percent victory. His eyes calmed, dead to the world once again. _Wait for an opening_. Ja'far reasoned.

Sinbad did not like that face at all. Standing and pulling the boy to his feet, watching the boy as he tried to think of what to do now. _Should I just let him go? But then he might try to kill me again…_ Sinbad sighed, rubbing at his forehead with his one free hand, the other still holding the young boy's arms.

Ja'far eyed his daggers, only a few meters away. Looking back to his target, he saw that he was looking elsewhere. In a quick, fluid movement, Ja'far pulled his feet up using Sinbad's arms as leverage to kick off. Successfully detaching himself from the old boy and flipping to his feet, instantly running for his weapons.

Sinbad was caught off guard by the sudden move, even losing his balance. But as the fair skinned boy ran past, he wasted no time in grabbing his ankle, causing the boy to fall onto his face. A small foot slammed down on his cheek, but he paid it no mind. Rising from the ground, with his grasp still on the boy's ankle, Sin dusted off his pants and clothes. Casually dangling the smaller boy upside down by his ankle.

"I must say you are much stronger than you look, shrimp!" Sinbad laughed, plucking the wrappings that he had taken from the boy to tie his hands behind his back. "Now, what should I do with you?" Sinbad let the boy be dropped down to the dirt, quickly tying his legs, before he decided he could kick him to death.

Ja'far felt a cold sweep over his insides. I…have failed. Failures were never permitted. And this was Ja'far's first failed assassination. He kept his eyes glaring at the dirt, ready to take whatever the older boy would inflict.

Sinbad watched the boy go limp. _Man…maybe he has parents I can return him to. Plus if I tell him I can take him home, he might warm up to me a bit. Maybe not want to kill me any longer! I can't take another stab like that to my chest. I was lucky enough to know how to heal it before my heart stopped._ Sinbad looked around the ally, watching as people filed by in the streets. Skin tones of varying shades, hair styles of all kinds, and many clothes of tan or white. But none seemed to have hair as white as the boy's or skin as pale. Looking closely to the snake-like eyes, he could see the sure signs of emeralds.

_I have never seen anyone like this boy on any of my travels. The people of the deserts almost always have a very tanned complexion. He must be from a faraway country…So maybe a traveler family?_

"Can you understand me?" Sinbad asked the silent boy who gave no indication to have acknowledged his question. "Why did you attack me? For my jewels?" Sinbad tried to catch the boy's attention, waving his hands and pointing to his necklaces. "I cannot give you them, but if it is food you want I-"

"No." Ja'far said quietly, his features darkening as he saw the taller boy brighten after he spoke.

"So you do understand me! And you speak me language as well! I'm glad. I would hate to have to use hand gestures and what not to try to communicate properly." Sinbad said, reaching over to pet the boy's head, but stopped half way, remembering what had happened the last time he had tried that. "So then why did you attack me?" Sinbad settled comfortably on the ground, ready to hear the boy's story.

Ja'far kept his mouth shut. There is no worse crime than letting a target know of important information unwillingly or not.

Sinbad sighed at the response, picking himself up from the ground and yanking the boy onto his shoulder in one move. The child made a hiss-like noise, the only indication he gave to being upset with the change of position.

"I am heading to the west tomorrow! And I guess, since you asked so nicely, I can let you tag along for a while. I hear the country of Manoshus is quiet lovely this time of year!" Sin entered the street, casually walking toward the market place before settling to find a room for the night.

"Wolałbym umrzeć!" The bandaged boy spoke, his head twisting to speak into Sinbad's ear. "I would rather die!" His voice dripping with malice. Sinbad frowned at the statement, but then hefted the boy over his back.

"Glad to hear you so enthusiastic!" Sinbad laughed, entering one of the nearby hotels and quickly paying for a room. The inn keep seemed a bit worried about him keeping a child restrained, but he assured her that it was only a child's game of pirate and official. The boy having obviously lost the game, and so was now being thrown in "jail". The women smiled and let the two to the room in peace.

"It is still only midday…Anything you want to do? I don't have much with me, but I do have a few things to pass the time. You know you are my very first traveling companion! Not many people want to travel the world and conquer dungeons, you know! Adventure! So, even if our meeting started a bit sour, I'm glad to have you accompanying me." The tanned boy said, flopping down onto the bed, dropping the boy down as well.

Ja'far wasted no time in freeing his hands and feet from the ties. They were knotted well, and properly tightened, but not enough to keep his small wrists from squeezing through. And by the time the elder boy was finished speaking, he was free and dashing for the door.

Sinbad's hand shot out quickly, grabbing the back collar of the boy's cloak before he could get away. Yanking him off his feet, grimacing at the sound of the thud as he fell onto his backside.

"Am I really such terrible company?" Sinbad asked seriously. "Why do you wish to go back so badly?" The violet haired boy walked over and sat himself down in front of the only exit, the door. The room did have a window, but it was far too small for even the small boy to hope to crawl through. "Do you have family there?" Sinbad tried to get a few answers from the boy. Anything to figure out who he was.

Ja'far just stared at him.

"You know I have never seen anyone as pale as you." Sinbad said, poking a piece of wrapping that seemed to have stayed on his head. And just by the gentle nudge, the bandage fell from the child's face. "..Freckles…ha..hahaha!" Sinbad laughed, forgetting at the moment that the boy in front of him had tried, and almost succeeded in ending his life. He poked at the small brown dots that littered his nose. Glad to see the child had not bitten him. In fact, looking down, it was the first time he had seen anything other than a frown on the boy's face. He looked…embarrassed…like the child he is supposed to be.

Quickly Ja'far grabbed for the bandages, hoping to wrap them around him and hide. He knew his people were not held highly in most other countries. And now the man he was supposed to kill was laughing at his skin. The pale boy could do nothing against the shameful sting that came from that.

"…My people…were pale…like the snow…" Ja'far whispered before he could stop himself, dropping his head down so as to not see the older boy's face.

"Really? I've never heard of such people? Is your country in the north?" He is speaking! That is a great start! Sinbad kept his face neutral, knowing the boy would most likely shy away if he smiled and laughed.

"I have no more country." Came the dead reply.

"Ah..So then your people's country?" Sinbad tried. He didn't plan on traveling northward in the least. But if he could reunite the boy with his people, it would be worth it.

"I have no more people." Ja'far responded evenly.

"Well surely everyone has to come from somewhere. Your birth place, where you were raised, parents or guardians, friends. Surely you have one of those."

Ja'far stayed silent, his head turning to look at the wall. … _friends?._..

"Do you…not know? Perhaps I could help you find out." Sinbad tried, wishing a thousand times in his head for the kid to cry, shout or scream, anything! Seeing one so young, so little, being as dead in the eyes as a corpse, wasn't settling.

But the boy wouldn't answer.

"Alright, so are you hungry? And you can't say 'no' because I am going to get food anyway. I am starving!" Sinbad jumped to his feet, giving the pale child a huge smile as he reached down to pull him up with him. But he just stared at the hand.

Ja'far inwardly snorted at the boy's offerings of food. _As if I would willing_ …Ja'far's eyes widened. _My knives! They are still in that alley!_ Looking back at the hand, he frowned. But grasped the appendage all the same.

 _Well will you look at that! Looks like the way t a kids heart is through food!_ Sinbad smiled and pulled the boy to his feet, opening the door with the other hand.

"You know, I never asked you your name."

 


	2. Assassination

The white haired boy turned his head away, pulling his hand away from the other's hand.

"Mine is Sinbad! But if you want you can just call me Sin."

Walking quickly down the halls they made their way out of the inn. Ja'far breathing a bit of relief at being in the streets again. _The alley is to the left of here. If I can manage to slip away unseen, I can grab my knives and continue my mission._

"Let's go this way! I think I can smell something delicious coming that way!" Sin grabbed the boy's arm, dragging him down the right side of the street. Ja'far grit his teeth, pulling with all his might to get the other to let his hand go. His tiny feet having to run to keep up with the older boy's large strides. Having an idea, he dug his tiny feet into the dirt, trying to show he did not wish to run. But the boy kept on jogging, chattering about food and women. _This man is a fool!_ _How could I have…no, I haven't lost yet!_ Ja'far kicked out his foot, successfully tripping the running 'fool'. The smaller almost letting a smile slip from the enjoyment he got from seeing the taller fall straight onto his face.

"Ow~ Ahaha, so you don't like running, huh? I guess we can walk." Sinbad pushed up from the ground, glad to see the kid hadn't run off the second he wasn't holding him down.

"I…want to go…that way." Ja'far pointed to down the opposite side of the street. His mouth put out in a small pout, but looking into his eyes…they did not fit. But, Sinbad smiled anyway.

"Oh! Why didn't you say so! You know I did see some nice looking dancers that way." Sinbad grabbed the boy's hand, dragging him once again, but in the direction Ja'far had been hoping for.

Many people watched the two, a few with smiles, but many were glaring. Ja'far picked up on the eyes after they started, he pulled his hood up and over his head. … _My people must have seen the same eyes I am seeing now._

Seeing the assassin pull up his hood in the hottest times of the day made him worry. _Perhaps he saw a familiar face._ Slowly turning his head and eyes searching the crowds. No one in particular…but it seems…like the mood of the people has suddenly turned sour.

Ja'far felt his breath quicken as he saw the alley he knew housed his discarded weapons. Looking up quickly, he saw the boy wasn't paying much attention to him. Stealing the chance he broke free from the other's grip and dashed full speed into the alley. Glad to see the silver daggers and red wire still there in a heap near the far end. Ja'far could hear his target running to chase after him, so he quickly grabbed the wires and started winding them around his arms.

"I can't take my eyes of this brat for a second!" Sin scowled, running into a familiar alley, eyes softening at seeing the panicking look on the child melt away as he twisted the blood red wires around his arms, wiping the sand from his silver daggers.

Ja'far sat against the wall, body finally relaxed at having his weapon on his person once again. It was times like these that reminded him how naked he felt without them. Exposed and defenseless. Even as his target walked up and sat beside him, he would not move. _I can kill him now._

Ja'far let one of the daggers fall into his hands, not even blinking before swinging the wires, the metal making a sickening splattering. … _Mission complete._ Ja'far wiped the droplets of warm blood from his face, pulling the wires back to wrap them, but they wouldn't come. Thinking that the daggers were merely stuck, Ja'far moved to pull them from the body.

"That could have ended badly, haha." Sinbad gave a small laugh, dropping the silver knife from his palm. A deep gash in his left hand, blood freely flowing in rivets. Ja'far started at the sound of the teenager's voice. Backing away at a quick crawl.

Ripping a part of his sleeve, Sinbad wrapped the deep wound quickly. Biting back a groan of pain from the fabric rubbing against his tender flesh.

"Why!? …Why are you!?-Why do you not hate me!?" Ja'far yelled, pulling out his daggers and poisoning himself to attack again. Sinbad frowned at the shaky voice and frantic green eyes, but then gave a small smile.

"Why should I?" Sinbad looked straight at Ja'far, searching. And apparently he found something he liked. Slowly getting to his feet, Sinbad walked over to the trembling boy, placing his hand on the stark white hair. _He seems so…lost_. Sinbad ruffled the boy's hair, using his wounded hand to push the child's hands down.

Feeling the hand on his head…it was like Ja'far's mind had just been shut off. Like the world had suddenly just stopped. Looking up at Sinbad through his eye lashes, Ja'far had to remember what it was he was doing. And then he felt hands pushing down on his arms. Ja'far twisted his arms away from the taller boy and quickly placed his blades against his jugular. But instead of cutting it quickly, finishing his mission, and following all of his instincts, he just let them hover.

"You know, if you aren't doing anything, I have been looking for a body guard to accompany me on my travels. And from what I have seen, you are just the kind of guy I am looking for!" Sinbad smiled, even with the knife digging into his neck, just enough not to cut the skin.

Ja'far dropped the knife, letting them hang from their red wires. … _I-I…can't kill him_ …Staring at his own hands, Ja'far shook. Backing away from the smiling adventurer while his hand searched inside his cloak. Quickly pulling out a small vial and uncorking it, a deep purple liquid swirling inside. Ja'far shoved the vial to his mouth.

"Shit!" Sinbad smacked the glass bottle from the tiny boy's hands, watching as the ground sizzled when it shattered on the ground. Ja'far panicked, grabbing at his knives to slit his own throat, but found his hands detained by his target once again. Sinbad looked sadly at the shaking boy, who just now had tried to end his and his own life. "Why don't you just come with me? You don't have to die. You can live and have a happy life!"

"I cannot return like this. I have failed." Ja'far's dead eyes looked up into Sinbad's gold. "I would rather die."

"Then don't return. Come with me." Sinbad tried.

"It is not so simple. They will find me." Ja'far yanked his hands from Sins'. "And when they do, I will wish for death." Ja'far turned his head away. "Poison would be a much kinder way to go."

"I can protect you!" Sin grabbed the small shoulders, trying to reassure the boy.

"They are strong." Ja'far replied coldly, but not moving away.

"Well, I am an adventurer and will be on the move all the time! And I think I am strong enough to stand against anything they might send. I think I handled you well enough. And with both of us, I am sure we will be fine!" Sinbad smiled.

"They have men far deadlier than me. I am nothing compared to the others they will send." Ja'far muttered darkly.

"I am not afraid." Sinbad said seriously. "Join me! From what you have told me, I guess I could use your help."

"You are a fool." Ja'far hissed.

"And you are a boy." Sinbad replied. "Who has been forced into a life I am sure you did not choose."

Ja'far shut his mouth, not wanting to reveal anymore. He knew he was finished the moment he paused in cutting his target's jugular. Why? Why couldn't I have just slit his throat?

"We can leave. Right now. You don't have to go back. You would never have to answer to them anymore." Sinbad said with earnest .

"You do not know who they are." Ja'far quipped. Feeling more and more as if he had already given in and was just beating a dead horse.

"I believe they go by the name Al-Sarmen. Last time I heard, anyway." Sinbad said, crossing his arms at the name.

"Then you should know what they are capable of." Ja'far muttered with venom on his lips, a warning clear in his voice.

"I also know what they would deem as too much trouble to put an effort into." Sinbad said seriously. I doubt they would send an army after one child.

"They do not care for me." Ja'far agreed numbly. "They would come for you! And take me in for punishment and then execution." Ja'far replied hotly, before drifting off into a defeated whisper at the thought of his timely end, surly it would not be pleasant. Unconsciously his hand brushed his pants, feeling the half-healed scars.

"I relish the challenge." Sinbad puffed out his chest, the sun gleaming off his necklace. "Now, you must be hungry! Let's get some food!"

Ja'far felt something warming in his chest. _Could…Could it really be that simple?.. I-that I could just leave?…I would be killed if I returned now, I'm sure of it. I leaked information and failed to kill my target. If anything I would be put through torture…Is it better?…wiser…to just leave with him?…Could I really just…go?_ Ja'far looked up at the shining gold eyes, longing to just drop everything and travel the world. _Traveling the world?..._ Ja'far took a step toward the boy, hope brimming in his eyes. _I-I think…I could. I have nothing to lose. And…I feel like I can…confide…in him._

"I…I…." Ja'far whispered. His voice stopping in midsentence; as if it wouldn't allow him to speak any longer. There was a dull thumping noise as his weapons fell to the dirt. Ja'far just now realized his arms, body, was shaking. _No-no-no-no! I-I can't…I cannot go against them!_

"Let's get something to eat! In celebration of my new traveling companion!" Sinbad slapped the boy's back, pushing him toward the street once again. Laughing at the bewildered face the boy gave.

Just like that?! He is a fool! H-how! I did not even agree! Why does he insist in…trusting me? Why!? Ja'far looked back at his red wires and silver daggers laying on the ground. The sight…walking away from his killing utensils…was ironicly similar to the way he was walking away from Al-Sarmen. He would laugh if the thought did not leave such an ache in his chest.

 _I do not understand this man! He should have killed me the second he had an opening! That is what I did-should have done…it seems…perhaps he is showing me mercy because he believes I did for him? Well he is wrong!...I…just…why did I not kill him?_ Ja'far numbly walked beside Sinbad, his eyes now lingering on the man's wounded hand. Amber eyes, deep purple hair, glittering jewelry and blinding smile. If he didn't know any better, Ja'far would saw the elder boy was royalty. But giving it a second thought…What did Ja'far know of this man? He was told his name and in which direction he was heading before going off on to assassinate him. And it was all he needed. Assassination needed the bare minimum for effectiveness. Too much information and it clutters the mind; causes the assassin to think more than he should, which could compromise the kill.

Ja'far felt like wrapping his arms around himself. Being without his weapons was strange at best. But leaving them –throwing them away all together- Made him feel the one emotion he was trained to suppress the most. Fear. The warm hand on his back had guided him only a few feet before it was to much. Ja'far turned back and snatched up his daggers, holding them close to his chest before quickly wrapping them around him arms. Spiraling bruises –now scars- showing exactly where he placed them.

Sinbad gave a sad smile at the relief that flushed the boy's face. His small body awkwardly walking back to him after twisting the deadly weapon around his arms. The boy stopped a foot away, his eyes almost pleading for him to tell him what to do. Instruct him like his previous masters.

Sinbad turned to face the child. "So, I believe introductions are in order. I have already told you my name, but to be proper I shall say it again. My name is Sinbad. And as my first follower, I wish for you to tell me yours."

"Ja'far." The boy said quietly after a moment or two.

 


End file.
